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Snow Day

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Darcy’s floating in the pleasant state between asleep and awake. She’s aware of the firm chest she’s lying on top of, the strong arm around her waist, and is pleasantly surprised that he didn’t take off while she was asleep.

She’d met Brock at a bar the night before when he’d helped her swindle a couple of dude bros out of $50 on a game of pool. A couple drinks and a few hours later, they’d stumbled in through her front door, mouths and hands roaming each other’s body. After the most satisfying and athletic sex of her life, they’d collapsed into an exhausted heap on her bed, breathing heavily.

Darcy shifts a bit closer, humming at the ache between her thighs. She’s about to either slip back into sleep or wake him up for round two, she hasn’t decided, when her phone starts ringing from her nightstand. She groans, rolling off Brock to silence it, only answering it because it’s Jane’s name on the caller ID and Jane rarely calls unless it’s important.

“This better be an emergency,” Darcy grumbles into the phone. Brock shifts behind her. She reaches back and pats his stomach, hoping that conveys that she doesn’t want him to go anywhere.

”Darcy!” Jane’s voice is way too loud for seven a.m. ”Did you get home safe last night?”

“...Yes?” Darcy says slowly. “Uh, why?”

”The storm! There’s so much snow around the tower that they’re telling people to stay home,” Jane says.

That gets Darcy’s attention. She struggles to sit up until she’s leaning over her bed, Brock grumbling behind her, pulls back the curtains on the window and yep, that is a lot of snow.

“Holy shit?” she says. “Please tell me this means I don’t have to come in today. I’m not important enough for SHIELD to send a hovercraft or some shit, right?”

Brock stills behind her, and great, he better not be one of those ready to ream her for working for ‘the man’ like Ian. He doesn’t look the type, but hell, she hadn’t expected Ian to consume his weight in pot brownies either, maybe she doesn’t know shit about men.

”No, you have today off,” Jane says. ”Thor offered to fly over to get you but I told him you’d probably close the door in his face.”

“Well, not right away. I mean, I’d offer coffee first…” There’s some shifting behind her, Brock sitting up, and yeah, she needs to cut the conversation. “Look, I have some tall, dark, sexy company right now, can I call you back?”

”It’s a Thursday!”

“What, am I only allowed to get laid on weekends? You know what, never mind, I’ll text you tonight,” Darcy says, hanging up. She turns to Brock, who has adorable bedhead and an odd look on his face. “Turns out I’m snowed out of work. If you are too, I have a real fun idea of how to spend the time.” She waggles her eyebrows, aiming for a laugh, but he still is looking way too serious.

“You’re connected to SHIELD?” he asks.

She narrows her eyes, suddenly very aware that she’s naked except for the sheet clutched to her chest, trying to think of if the taser taped behind her nightstand is charged. “I guess that depends. Is this another kidnapping attempt?”

He looks surprised at that, which is good because she’s not a fan of the serious eyebrows. “What?”

“If you’re A.I.M. or HYDRA or whatever I’m going to be really pissed, tase you until you’re a drooling mess, and wait for Thor to break all your bones,” Darcy says, reaching behind her for the nightstand taser.

“What? No, I’m not - I wouldn’t have slept with you if - god, hold on,” Brock says. He leans over the other side of the bed to rummage through his jeans, giving her a great view of his ass, and it’s a good thing he seems genuinely confused because she’d hate to have to electrocute such a cute butt.

Brock sits back up with his wallet. He opens it to her and her jaw drops. It’s not a wallet, it’s a SHIELD badge. She stares between the serious, almost glaring picture on his badge up to his messy bedhead and dark stubble.

“What...the fuck.”

“I’m a STRIKE agent,” Brock says.

“So SHIELD’s equivalent of Navy SEALs?” Darcy says.

“Basically,” Brock says. “Is that an issue?”

Darcy narrows her eyes at him. He doesn’t look like any of the agents who made their lives hell in New Mexico, or the ones that showed up late when she was calling for help in London. “As long as you don’t plan on disappearing me and Jane, I think we’re solid,” she says.

“Jane...is Dr. Foster,” he says slowly, putting the pieces together.

“Yeah,” Darcy says. “Why else would SHIELD bother with me? I’m a poli-sci grad with a cat sweater collection. The most dangerous thing about me is I was put on a TSA watch list for accidentally taking a plastic butterknife through airport security.”

Brock snorts out a laugh at that. “You are adorably non-threatening,” he says.

“Okay mister, well first of all I tased Thor,” Darcy says.

“Yeah, I can see your taser from here,” he says, nodding to her nightstand. “You know they’re illegal in New York, right?”

“What, you gonna narc on me? The woman who blew you less than eight hours ago?” Darcy teases, pushing at his bare thigh with her foot. Brock grins and grabs her ankle, tugging her closer to him. Darcy shrieks out a laugh, letting him pull her over until he can pull her by her hand. She ends up lying on top of him, his leg pressed between her thighs. Her breath catches as she grinds down against his leg.

“Mmm, are you up for round two or too sore?” Brock asks, voice pitched low. His fingers trail over her collarbone, down to where her breasts are pressed against his chest.

She considers it for a moment. She really wants to fuck him again, but he’s definitely on the thick side. “A bit sore,” she admits.

Brock hums and a moment later he’s rolling them so she’s on her back. He kisses her deeply, hand cradling her jaw, before moving down her body, pushing the rest of the sheet away as he goes. She gasps when he puts his mouth on her, hand threading through his thick hair.

Later, when she’s lying tucked against his side, still catching her breath, he asks, “So how often are you kidnapped?” His fingers trailing up and down her arm are enough of a distraction that it takes her a second to process his question.

“I’ve only been actually kidnapped once. But I’m on attempt like...six?” she says, thinking. She thinks the A.I.M. attempt last month was number six at least.

Brock’s face twitches. “Who’s in charge of your security?”

“Bronson? But it’s really Jane’s security. She’s priority numéro un,” Darcy says. Brock’s whole hand spasms. “And really, it seems like it’s mostly because of the fact that she’s with Thor rather than her research, which is upsetting in like forty different ways.”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s upsetting,” Brock says, his voice dark.

She suddenly has the feeling Bronson is going to be getting a less than happy phone call, which warms her a bit considering Brock’s just her one-night stand. Darcy tries to get his mind off it and elbows him in the side, making him grunt. He grabs her elbow before she can do it again.

“Your elbows are sharp.”

“Yeah, I know. Comes in handy when I’m walking in busy-ass New York,” she says. She runs her fingers up and down his arm, squeezing at his thick bicep. “You seem like you’d be a good snowball fight partner. What do you say to helping me fuck up my downstairs neighbors?”

Brock raises an eyebrow, a mischievous grin slowly growing. “Do your neighbors know about this snowball fight or is this a sneak attack?” he asks.

“They should expect it considering they pelted me last year. It’s so my turn,” she says, making him laugh. “Plus, when we’re done, we can take a hot shower and let our minds and hands wander.”

“Hmm,” he says, nudging her nose with his before kissing her. “I can get on board with that. Though I think using a STRIKE agent against your neighbors may be cheating.”

“What, you gonna tattle to the snowball fight police?” she says, rolling up and out of bed. His eyes follow the curve of her ass and he doesn’t look remotely repentant when she catches him looking. “Come on, fancy STRIKE agent. Let’s mess up some software engineers.”